From Above

Scriptures: Second Sunday in Lent, A.D. 2014 A

Sermon:

Grace, mercy and peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. AMEN.

I like Nicodemus. His character has always appealed to me. He is a man of great power and learning, a sincerely pious and religious man. Yet like all of us he is awed, baffled, and humbled by his encounter with Jesus Christ. Today we read about that very encounter, when Nicodemus visits Jesus by night, and they discuss perhaps the greatest mystery of our faith: Holy Baptism.

Now, I could go into great detail about the significance of Nicodemus’ background, but that would end up being a sermon unto itself and more a history lesson than anything else. Suffice to say that three things should really catch our attention. First, he is a member of the Great Sanhedrin, the most powerful institution amongst God’s people in Jesus’ day. We have no equivalent in modern times, but if you can imagine smashing both Houses of Congress into a single body and then combining that with the Supreme Court, you’ll get the general idea. The 71 members of the Great Sanhedrin are the most powerful Israelites in the world, and Nicodemus is one of them.

A second significant fact about Nicodemus is that he is a Pharisee, which makes him amongst the most learned and pious men in First Century Judea. He knows the Bible like the back of his hand, along with countless volumes of theology and religious law. Pharisees are half monk and half professor. Their zeal for God and for His people makes them well respected throughout the land.

And last but not least, Nicodemus knows Greek, the language both of classical philosophy and also of the governments and militaries of the eastern Roman Empire. Why, his very name is Greek, and our text today makes it clear that when he meets with Jesus by night—at great risk to his reputation and position, mind you—he and Jesus converse not in Aramaic or Hebrew, the languages of the Jews, but in the headier and more philosophical tongue of ancient Greece.

I love that Jesus is just as comfortable disputing in Greek with the world’s elite as He is preaching to fishermen and tax collectors, healing sinners and restoring outcasts to community. And I love even more that all Nicodemus’ learning, all his power and piety combined, can’t help him make heads or tails of what Jesus is saying. We aren’t the only ones who have to wrestle with Jesus’ Word, folks. The mighty of this world long have had just as much trouble sussing it out as we do.

At first glance it can seem like Nicodemus risks the wrath of his own Sanhedrin in coming to Jesus only then to be rewarded with vagaries and fluff. We might wonder if Jesus enjoys being purposely cryptic. But such is not the case. Rather, Jesus is honestly trying to reveal to Nicodemus some of the most profound mysteries of His messianic purpose, but the only way to do so is to introduce them by metaphor and comparison. He speaks of heavenly things, not as they are in and of themselves, but in earthly terms. How else could we understand them?

“Very truly I tell you,” sayeth the Lord, “no one can see the Kingdom of God without being born from above.” Okay, good. Nicodemus knows what the Kingdom of God is. Daniel prophesied long ago that one appearing as a Son of Man would descend from Heaven and save God’s people, a divine King for a holy Kingdom. And Daniel prophesied that the Son of Man would arrive soon, around the time of Jesus and Nicodemus. That’s why everyone was looking for the Christ right about then.

But Nicodemus is confused. In Greek, “born from above” can also mean “born again,” so he asks Jesus, “How can anyone be born after having grown old? Can one enter a second time into the mother’s womb and be born?” It’s a legitimate question. When someone shows up out of the blue and asks if you’re born again, our natural response is to ask, “How would that work, exactly?”

“Very truly I tell you,” answers Jesus, “to enter the Kingdom of God one must be born of water and Spirit. We aren’t talking about fleshly birth but spiritual birth.” At this point Nicodemus must look at Jesus like a cow staring at a new gate, because Jesus pushes forward: “Do not be astonished that I say you must be born from above. God’s Spirit is like the wind, which blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with all those born of the Spirit.” Just as the direction and destiny of the wind is mysterious, so then the mission of the Holy Spirit is even more mysterious in the lives of believers. After all, did the Spirit not lead Nicodemus here, to seek God in the person of Jesus?

And Nicodemus replies, “How can this be?”—which is another way of saying, “Hunh?”

“Are you a teacher of Israel,” Jesus admonishes, “yet you do not understand this? Truly, we speak of what we’ve seen and know, yet you do not receive our testimony. That’s why I’m using earthly terms to tell you about heavenly realities—speaking of God’s Holy Spirit in terms of birth and wind. No one has actually risen up to Heaven and seen the workings of the Spirit except for the Son of Man Who has come down from Heaven.” In other words, no one has seen God save Him Who is from God; no one has seen the Father but the Son. “These things won’t make sense to you—I won’t make sense to you—until I am lifted up like Moses lifted the bronze snake in the wilderness. Then you will understand that God so loved the world that He gave His only son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life. For God sent the Son into the world, not to condemn the world, but that the world might be saved through Him.”

That, for me, is where the rubber really hits the road. You can know the Bible back to front. You can be well versed in history and philosophy and theology. You can be successful in every endeavor in life, like good old Nicodemus. But what God is doing for you will not make sense until you witness for yourself what God is willing to give for you, lose for you, sacrifice for you. When you see the Son of Man raised up—raised up on the Cross, raised up from the grave, raised up into Heaven—only then will it start to make sense. Then you will see the Kingdom of God. For God so loved the world that He came in the flesh, He gave His only Son, that we all might live.

He came to forgive us, to heal us, to bring us home in Him, and in response we will reject Him, we will break Him, we will murder Him on a Cross. Yet even this cannot separate us from His love. Even this cannot break His promise of life for us. For God sent the Son into the world not to condemn the world, but that the world might be saved through Him.

The Old Testament envisions that in the messianic age God will pour out His Holy Spirit from above. We read this in the great prophets: Isaiah, Ezekiel, Joel. They depict this as water being poured upon the Israelites to wash away their sins and to renew their hearts. That’s again heavenly reality couched in earthly terms. This reality is fulfilled for us now in the Sacrament of Holy Baptism, when we receive not merely water but the very breath and life of God the Holy Spirit dwelling within us. We often speak of Baptism as a bath, a washing, but it’s more than that.

The New Testament speaks of Baptism as drowning—as death and resurrection—because when we meet God in the waters of Baptism we are joined to the death of Jesus Christ already died for us, that we need never fear death again! And we are joined to Christ’s own eternal life already begun, and stretching out to the infinity of the world to come. Our old, sinful self drowns in the waters, and we rise up reborn, resurrected, with the life of Christ burning within us. We are the Body of Christ now. We are the temples of His Spirit. We are the hands and feet He has chosen for His work, the tongues He has purposed to speak His promises and to pronounce His forgiveness!

Baptism washes away our sins. It joins us to the Cross of Christ and the empty Tomb. It marks our adoption into the community of God’s people Israel. It gives to us the unspeakable honor of knowing that God’s Holy Spirit dwells within us. And it makes of us the Body of Christ, the continuation of God’s Incarnation on this earth, so that we are now called to fulfill Jesus’ mission for this world in our own generation! We are the answer to prayer. We are the people of God. Not because we deserve it. Not because we chose it. Not because we are in any way, shape, or form better than any other sinner on this planet. But simply because God has chosen us, God has forgiven us, and God has promised to us infinite, perfect, and ceaseless love forever. And all we are asked to do in return is joyfully to share what we have been given with everyone else in the world.

Such is the mystery of Holy Baptism. It is not a symbol. It is not magic. It is something infinitely simpler and more powerful. It is the promise of God: a promise so outlandish as to be incomprehensible; a promise that doesn’t make a lick of sense, until we look to the Cross, to the empty Tomb, to the Christ Who loved us all the way to Hell and back.

Such is the promise of Baptism. And God does not break promises.

Thanks be to Christ. In Jesus’ Name. AMEN.